


Fire in the Water

by wild_rue



Category: Divinity: Original Sin (Video Games)
Genre: Female Pyro, Fire, Godwoken-Wizard, Human Godwoken, Other, Violence, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 11:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wild_rue/pseuds/wild_rue
Summary: Anything and everything Tess did now was in honor of him, in honor of the life he had built for her, and of the memory he tried preserve. Did those wistful visions of a childhood he longed to give her even matter? They didn’t. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing more than the idea of meeting the woman who’d stripped her life from fiery fingertips.





	Fire in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that inspired my fifth play-through of Divinity: Original Sin. It's just a pre-ascension drabble that I'll be keeping it as a one-shot for now, but if I get bombarded with more content, I'll be sure to post it. Hope you enjoy.

The crisp, cool breeze kissed Tess’ cheeks as she stood at the edge of the cliff. The modest cottage where she was born, burned at her flank, ensuring the arrival of _The Divine Order _at any moment. Warring elements raged within her as clenched fists hung at her sides. Dark, deep set eyes brimmed with tears. Tears that she would not permit to fall. Evidence of a cold front moved in from the sea as it mingled with the ash from the nearby burning birch and brick. A shaky exhale seeped through full, parted lips as her visible breath floated on the air. It hurt to think about --- the loss of the only person who mattered in her life. But she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on the sadness, lest it consume her whole. Anything and everything she did now was in honor of him, in honor of the life he had built for her, and of the memory he tried preserve. Did those wistful visions of a childhood he longed to give her even matter? They didn’t. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing more than the idea of meeting the woman who’d stripped the very life from her fiery fingertips.

Closing her eyes, Tess inhaled deeply, letting the past flash behind lidded hues, giving her much-needed strength… 

* * *

_“Papa, look!” a ten-year-old Tess exclaimed as a tiny ball of flame hovered in the palm of her hand. The tongues of fire lapped at her chocolate complexion. Her eyes lit up brightly, lovely round face framed by wild, curly locks of raven black hair. She was getting the hang of this Source thing. And she was proud of herself. As was her father._

_Titus, a skilled healer based out of a small cottage in the mountains north of Cyseal, looked up from his task at hand. Poring over a detailed skill book, his stout jaw stood out in the flickering candlelight as he let the smile on his lips reach his eyes. He was a tall man with a surprisingly muscular build. Odd for someone of his profession, but no one ever entertained the idea of challenging the bulwark of a man merely based on appearance. “I see, firefly,” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “What else have you got?”_

_Her natural element was fire. It came as easy to her as breathing. But she had the talent for water as well, which she inherited from her father. He did his best to steer her toward ice and the soothing effect of water when it came to healing. As a wild child, though, Tess couldn’t help but be enamored with the effortlessness of fire. _

_Practicing Source was a dangerous game, especially in the climate of a city like Cyseal. Magisters littered the streets, doing their best to intimidate the good citizens into giving up those who might be considered breaking the law. But for the most part, the population left Titus and Tess alone. He was the only healer who could handle wounds of great magnitude. And since the manifestation of Source in his daughter, he was always careful. _Don’t practice outside, _he’d told her. _Don’t try anything new without my help. _And for the most part, she had done her due diligence. _

_“Okay...how about this?” Tess’ face was a picture of focus. All furrowed brow and narrowed hues, small palms praised the sky as a barrier of flame surrounded her in the form of fiery seashells. It was a defensive spell, one Titus was only all too thrilled for her to learn. If she ever needed protection when he wasn’t around, her skills would be her only aid. At the risk of getting caught, he would rather her be safe than dead._

_Throwing his head back in amusement, Titus clapped his hands in approval as he stood to make his way over to where his daughter was. Standing five feet from where the flaming barrier protected young Tess, her father raised a hand, flicking blunted fingers of ice in her direction. Each shell reached out to parry the icy shards away from her person. “Well done!” he boomed, nodding as an overwhelming sense of pride filled him to the brim. “You’ve been doing very well, my little firefly. Now...cool down,” he told her, folding his arms over his broad chest as he waited for her to heed his words. _

_Just as Tess began lowering her arms, the front door to their small home burst open without so much as a knock. There, in the threshold, stood a beautiful woman draped in layers upon layers of modest robes; almost as if she was hiding something. But recognition flashes in Tess’ eyes as the hovering shells disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Momma!” she gasped in elation. While the child might have missed the look of shock, then disgust, that crossed the woman’s face, Titus was almost too observant. Holding out an arm, he tentatively stopped Tess from torpedoing toward the woman._

_“Glenda,” he bristled, clearing his throat. It was the only form of greeting he could offer her, considering the circumstances. “What are you doing here?”_

_As quickly as her innate reaction had contorted flawless features, Glenda regained composure as best as she could. Stepping into the space, she shut the door behind her, clutching her robes tightly to her person. “Is it so wrong that I wanted to see you? Both of you?” _

_Tess nudged against her father’s strong hold, but did no more. The woman she called _mother _was practically a stranger to her, coming and going only a few times a year. Titus had done his best to ease the girl’s mind, explaining that Glenda’s work took her far and away from them. And at that age, how could she argue? _

_“Not wrong, no. Just unlikely.” Titus’ voice was naught more than a grumble as he stole a glance down at the child who peered up at him through pleading eyes. Relenting, he let Tess complete her intended trajectory toward the robed woman._

_Standing perfectly still, Glenda met Tess with less enthusiasm than the child expected as the girl wrapped her arms around her waist. Tensing at the touch, tentative hands patted Tess’ wild hair before curled digits lifted her chin so their gazes locked. “What have you been _doing, _dear one?” she prodded, a glimmer of mischief and disapproval in her eyes._

_Tess never felt entirely comfortable in her mother’s presence, especially now, being a little older since the last time they’d been together. Tossing a wary glance over her shoulder, the child’s gaze met her father’s expression. He seemed upset, slightly tortured by some unseen force. As she relinquished her hold on Glenda, Tess aimed to console Titus when her wrist was gripped by her mother’s vice-like hold._

_“I’m talking to you, child,” she informed her in a biting tone. _

_In the same instant, Titus took a solid step forward, fists clenched. Fighting was _not _his natural inclination - not anymore. But where his daughter was concerned, he would become destroyer of worlds to protect the light of his life. Taking note of the healer’s silent response, Glenda released Tess’ wrist when the girl trotted over to where her father stood, sliding a small delicate hand in his. _

_“Very well. I need to speak with you.” Standing a little straighter, chin jutting out to exude a sense of authority, Glenda addressed Titus without speaking his name. But she had no authority here._

_Giving her a curt nod, Titus then looked down at Tess - all bright-eyed and teeming with irrational worry, she was - as his gentle touch caressed her cheek. “Fret not, firefly. Go. I’ll find you in the dark,” he smiled softly, brushing the apple of her cheek with the pad of his thumb as he gave her a reassuring wink. _

_Hesitantly, Tess obeyed, slowly making her way outside. But her mother didn’t bother waiting for the door to shut when she closed the distance between she and Titus. Raising an accusatory finger to his face, Glenda’s harsh, angry voice filled the cottage. At that, Tess made a run for it, trying her best to rid her mind of the tension her mother always seemed to bring with her. Like unnecessary baggage that she insisted on carrying. Instead of making a beeline for her hiding place, the girl rounded the corner of the house, bright eyes peering through a slit in the window to hear what they might say. _

_“Source! You didn’t think it was prudent to mention that our daughter has manifested Source?!” _

_“I didn’t know you would care, considering how little you visit. It’s a wonder the child even recognizes you at all,” he retorted with practiced stoicism. He was usually welcoming, open and kind. But she brought out the worst in him, it seemed._

_They’d been here before. The constant arguments, discussions about her work and the horrors she’d witnessed. Titus counted himself lucky that his own Source had not forced the Magisters’ hand thus far. But he had done too much good already. For the people of Cyseal _and _the Divine Order._

_“She is a danger not only to you, but to hundreds of thousands of innocents living down the mountain. You - you are well-versed enough in your practice to control yourself. But she is a _child! _What if she summoned the Void?” Glenda’s voice rang out in the space with less anger and more genuine interest in the other’s response._

_“You didn’t seem to mind Source when I’d found you bleeding out on a battlefield. Or do you forget so easily that Source is what saved your life? You, coming and going as you please, leaving your daughter - your own flesh and blood - behind for months at a time…” _

_“You know why I can’t be here, Titus! If they found out…if they knew…” her voice was strained, almost as if it caused her pain to speak of it. But he knew her better. Her work was too important and that was the crux of it all. It explained her absence more than he let on._

_“She still thinks you fight _against _The Order. Did you know that? She believes that you’re _protecting _people like us from the Reds. She will find out one day, Glenda, I promise you that. And then what? What will you do when she fails to look upon your face with _unwarranted_ adoration?”_

_“Oh, Titus,” she sighed, her harsh expression softening as her brow relaxed. In that moment, Titus was instantly reminded of how beautiful she truly was. He remembered why he fell for her in the first place as Glenda’s outstretched hand moved to caress his bearded cheek. But he flinched back, unable to bring himself to fall prey to her affection ever again. At his reluctance, her fingers curled into her palm to the point of pain. Tiny half-moon indentations pierced her skin as she dropped her arm. The brief moment of tranquility faded from Glenda’s features as her brow hardened once more, eyes narrowing into slits. “You will rue the day you kept this from me.” Her voice is hard and monotone as she peered up at him from beneath her cowl._

_“You should know better than to come here and _threaten _me, love.” His words settled on them, a beat of silence following as the weight behind his sentiments pushed everything else out of the room. With sincerity emanating from the healer, they could both feel the room growing cold as the candles froze in the windows and in the hearth. A thin layer of ice crept across the floor from where he was standing as a visible shudder racked Glenda’s robed form. “I am not the man I was, but I will not hesitate to remind you if you dare speak of my daughter in that way again.”_

_She was boiling with anger, teeth grinding before they began to chatter thanks to the atmosphere Titus had created to display his displeasure with her. “Watch your back, Sourcerer,” she spat, turning on her heels to make for the door before slamming it on her way out._

_At that, Tess, brimming with fear and worry, turned away from the window to relish in the comfort of her hiding place. A sizable hole in a large oak a short distance away from the cottage had been the ideal spot for her to steal away in case of trouble. There, she crawled into the space and brought her knees up to her chest. Everything her parents had said embedded in her mind, echoing off the confines of her clamoring thoughts. What were they on about? Her Source? Her father’s past? Her mother’s work? What did it matter when they were sheltered by the mountain? Even if The Order was on the hunt, who would turn on them? Titus had healed countless people, saved dozens of lives using Source. He had even saved the life of a Magister, once. Who would dare? _

_“Firefly?” her father’s voice echoed out in the open. _

_Creeping out from the dark shade of the tree, upturned palm provided the tiniest of flames for her to see where she was going. “I’m here, Papa.” Her voice was small, a mere whisper. But he heard. He always did._

_“There you are. I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he crooned, a sad smile on his face as a thumb lightly brushed her tilted chin. “Let’s go home.” _

_That night, Titus was an open book. He could tell that there were questions lingering behind his daughter’s eyes, just waiting to break free from her lips. But instead of wanting to know about her mother, Tess only asked about _him. _The way he spoke eluded to a checkered past, one he was ashamed of. Yet, even in light of any wrongdoing he might have taken part in, he would still be Tess’ hero. _

_Titus looked into the child’s eyes, sifting through her gaze for any evidence of hatred or judgment therein. There was none. A sigh of relief escaped him as he began. “I was a prisoner of war, firefly. As a young Sourcerer, I was taken into custody and sent to Fort Joy. Back then, The Divine Order was more lenient with people like us. While I did what I had to in order to survive, I was offered a station within the lower ranks of The Order as a healer for the Magisters. They kept me collared until they had need of my abilities. By then, I had grown strong; in body and Source. However, when the Divine ordered deathfog to be used in wiping out the Black Ring and the Elves, there was…cause for concern. Even mutiny. I never agreed to uphold such atrocities. When Lucian was killed by the very order that was supposed to eradicate the Black Ring, I used the opportunity to escape while being uncollared and unsupervised. I fled to Cyseal, as it was less populated than Arx, but busy enough that they might never find me. It was there, I met your mother. She was badly wounded in a battle outside the city. I brought her back here, where I could work in silence and use my Source to help aid her…” His voice faded as he tried to combat the dryness he felt in his mouth as the shame crept up his chest._

_Instead of chastisement, the girl reached for her father’s large, strong hand. “She isn’t coming back, is she?” The query pierced silence, making Tess sound older than she was. Searching his expression for signs of rebuke, her own face perked up as she gave his hand a light squeeze. “Good.”_

_The night passed and the tension dissipated. It was then that Tess’ eyes were first opened to the world’s cruelty. Titus had done such an impeccable job of protecting her that she never truly knew. But as time went on, she began to take the harsh realities of the world they occupied in stride. Five years later, working with Titus to expand her knowledge on healing with water, while secretly playing with fire, the time that followed proved to be the best of their lives. The healing duo that people in Cyseal sought out, making the trek up the mountain outside the great city, seemed to fill the mouths of the locals. They were well-known and untouched. _

_But all good things come to an end._

_Stirred awake from a deep slumber, panic filled her father’s voice as Tess tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. It took a moment to understand him as her feet swung over the edge of her bed. But one word - one simple, yet mighty word - seemed to ring out above all the rest. _Magisters. _They had surrounded the cottage, torches in hand. It was a witch hunt, if they’d ever seen one. _No, no, no, _she silently repeated in controlled cadence behind her eyes._

_“Come out of there, Sourcerers!” the Magister in front called out to them. He had a platoon with him; odd numbers for only the two of them. But they wouldn’t be taken. Titus had done his time all those years ago. And Tess, she had so much life ahead of her. Even as they moved about the house, quietly acquiring all they would need to escape, there was no way they would be able to get by them without a hitch._

_Sliding on her boots, Tess peered over at her father who stood in front of the closed door to their house. “Papa, no. Please don’t. We can do this, we can leave - together!” she managed in a harsh whisper, lined with a pleading tone._

_“There’s too many of them, firefly. Our only option is to meet them head on, punch a hole through their formation and make a run for it.” His voice was level, calculating. He had planned for this. Ever since the day Tess’ mother had seen them last, he knew they couldn’t live like this forever. Turning to face her as she stood tall, hair wild, and eyes alight with ferocity (and fire), he noted the defiance in her before a single utterance. “It’s alright. We will be fine.” Cupping her face in his hands, Titus pressed a soft, endearing kiss to his daughter’s forehead before lowering his own so their gazes met. “I’ll find you in the dark.”_

_Before she could respond, he turned away, reaching for the door. “Godsdamn you, Papa,” she muttered under her breath as she followed after him._

_There were more Magisters than they had originally thought. Seemed like overkill. But her eyes bore into the man in front. He spoke with feigned authority, like a student given temporary reign over a classroom. Condescending flare emanated from his person as he took another step toward the healers._

_“Titus and Tess - you are hereby charged with the practice of Source. Surrender peacefully and it will make the process much less...messy,” he announced in a nasally voice. _

_Titus towered over most of them as he moved to meet the man in front. Hesitation plagued Tess’ movements, but she dared not cower now. She was strong, just like him. And whatever fate had lined up for them, they would survive it. _They had to. _“And what do you provide as evidence?” Titus inquired, nonchalance in his tone as he folded his arms across his chest. No one they had healed would turn them in. He looked forward to seeing what The Order had in store. _

_“That information is classified. But since you asked so nicely…” he grinned. It was a disturbing, eerie expression. One Tess had never seen before. But he would not be shaken as she stood behind her father, slightly off to his left. “Seems we have it on good authority from one of our own.” _

_The way in which Titus carried himself seemed to shift, involuntarily. Crossed arms slowly fell to his sides as lips parted to allow a tiny gasp to escape. _She had done it. _Even as her words filtered in behind dark, dangerous hues, Titus almost couldn't believe that she would go through with it. Not after all this time. “You come with a warrant, then, with a signature from the Magister in question?”_

_“Seven save me - I must’ve left it in my other trousers,” the lead Red mocked, patting his bottom and then his surcoat. _

_“You cannot arrest us without proper documentation,” Tess interjected. She was no longer the silent child who waited in the shadows. Not where her father was concerned. The Order had a very specific way of doing things and for all their faults, there was always a paper trail. _

_“It speaks! Forgive me, did I give you the impression that you were being _arrested?_” The Magister’s words lingered on the crisp night air as understanding passed over both healers’ faces. The sound of scattered laughter filled the circle from all directions. _

_“No,” she breathed, eyes wide with shock. Slowly, Tess moved to stand between the lead Magister and her father, brow furrowed and eyes burning with fearlessness. “You cannot do this”_

_Mirthful smile reached his eyes as he shook his head. “My, you _do_ resemble her, don’t you?” he mused, almost to himself as Tess’ head canted in crazed curiosity. “Don’t worry, child, it’ll be over soon enough. Archers!”_

_The collective sound of nocked arrows filled the darkness behind those soldiers with torches in their hands. There were more of them that they couldn’t see. A soft touch from behind lightly gripped Tess’ shoulder. The cool gaze of her father somehow quelled the raging fire that flickered in her soul. The most subtle of nods preceded any further movement on her part beforeTitus stepped back to assume a defensive stance. Her gaze snapped back to meet the expression of the Magister in charge, still unaware of what might follow as a scoff tumbled from his lips. _

_“Magister Glenda sends her regards…” _

_All at once, a toe-curling roar escaped Tess as outstretched arms pulled in the fire that lit each and every one of their torches, turning the area completely black. The only thing that could be heard were the mumblings and whimpers of frightened Magisters. That was, until an explosion of flame reached out from where Tess stood to set ablaze every Red within the circle._

_ The area surrounding the cottage was alight with burning Magisters, their shrieks at the top of the mountain muffled by the thick forest. No one would be coming for them. As the burning Reds writhed in pain on the ground, Tess immediately formed a fiery barrier around her father as he made it rain. It was not to soothe the burns of the soldiers still squirming for relief, but to prime those Reds unaffected by Tess’ fire. _

_Hiding within the cover of the trees, they heard someone cry “Draw...loose!” Arrows flew past the Sourcerer duo, some of them landing at their feet, others being parried by the tongues of flame that protected them._

_Throwing a look over her shoulder, Tess met her father’s eyes. “Do it!” she called to him._

_A large wave of ice wafted through the trees, freezing other Magisters in place. The wretched sound of Reds trying to free themselves from being stuck to the ground by ice was followed by what she suspected were shattering limbs. Cries of pain and fear clamored over one another with a few voices that urged others to fall back. Those who were not lucky enough to move, thanks to the ice, were met with Tess’ fury in the form of fire. Powerful rows of flame carved paths of Magister bodies through openings in the trees, silencing the screams of those still clinging to life._

_As the survivors’ retreat back to Cyseal was mostly silenced by the forest, Tess made her rounds, sifting through the bodies of anyone living and easing their passing. Though, there was certainly satisfaction in helping them along. Anger pummeled through her while questions flashed behind her eyes. _Magister Glenda. _It was a conversation she and her father needed to have. _

_Pushing through unruly branches, making her way back to where she’d left Titus, she’d found him kneeling over the Magister who’d fancied himself a leader as the Red drowned in his own blood. But something wasn’t right. Titus’ pallor, even in the light of the fire she’d created, spoke of some darkness that she couldn’t place. Only when Tess took a knee before him did she find a dagger plunged deep into his gut. _

_“No! No, Papa, look at me, it’s okay, you’re going to be alright,” she managed in short bursts as the Magister on the ground managed a chuckle whilst he continued to die. Tess’ eyes burned as she slid a flaming blade beneath his chin, through the bottom of his mouth to silence his gurgling. Turning back to her father, she laid him down gently on the cool, hard ground, not wanting to move him just yet. “It’s okay,” she sniffled, the fire escaping her in a wisp as she cradled the back of his head. “I can remove it, we can heal you. Just stay with me.” _

_Gasping for air, decay began to slowly crawl up his arms, putrid skin peaking out from beneath his shirt’s collar. “N-no, my little f-firefly,” he chortled, trying to inhale as best as he could. “T-tenebirum. S’a ten-nebrium blade.” _

_All the color drained from Tess’ face as the realization of what that meant sank into her soul. Unbidden tears filled her eyes as she moved to rest Titus’ head in her lap. “I’m going to heal you! Y-you can’t die. We were supposed to escape, remember? Settle somewhere new? W-we had a plan, Papa.” Stroking his strong, discolored jaw with the pad of her thumb, a sob caught in her throat as she leaned down to press her forehead to his._

_“S’okay f-firef-fly. I-I’m ssso proud of y-you.” His eyes were overcome with a white, milky texture as the wound in his abdomen emitted a stench that could only be described as rot. _

_She was not skilled enough for this. It seemed that no one but the Divine, himself, could heal such a wound. Or an aspiring Divine. But she was neither. Letting the emotion take over, Tess held her father close, rocking back and forth as she hummed her favorite tune. It was a melody Titus sang to her when she was only a baby, but she never forgot it. Clutching him tightly, she whispered affection in his ear, reminding him of how much she loved him until his chest ceased all movement. Labored, shallow breath stopped as the sun slowly rose over the top of their cottage, peeking over the trees. And with the sunlight, revealed the destruction of the Divine Order’s failed endeavor. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m so, so sorry.”_

_Those Magisters who escaped would tell of her power. She had precious little time before they would be upon her again. With that in mind, Tess dug a hole behind their home, overlooking the edge of mountain, out across the sea. Titus was at one with the water now. He was at peace. But her? She would never be. Not until _Glenda _met a fate worse than death. To Tess, that woman was no longer her mother. But the scum of the earth, that which needed to be purged from this life. And that was what she intended. Laden with only the most necessary of supplies, Tess left behind her home in search of honing her skills. She would cross every ocean, meet with every powerful being at her disposal, and perfect her craft. Of course, she would hold onto that which Titus had taught her. It was in her nature, a bleeding heart. But her mind had been made up. No one would stand in her way. _No one.

* * *

Ten years of space and time from the place she’d laid her father to rest filled her to the brim. Unfallen tears lined her lids as she inhaled deeply at the sound of soldiers’ footsteps closing in on her position. When The Divine Order surrounded her, Tess turned slowly to meet each and every one of their expressions. Fear etched into their features as she stepped forward, arms stretched out at her sides as she burst into flame, setting them alight, just as she had done that night. But she left one standing until he tumbled to the floor, pleading for mercy. Kneeling beside him, a red hot dagger pressed beneath his chin forcing him to look at her. “Mercy, indeed. You are my _war owl_, love. Tell Magister Glenda I’m coming for her.”


End file.
